


Broken

by 1960somethingBatman



Category: Carmen Sandiego (Cartoon 2019)
Genre: Angst, Devineaux is sad, F/M, Feelings, Feelings of uselessness, Fluff, Gen, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Breakdown, Platonic Relationships, Post-Season/Series 01, almost forgot the fluff, but Julia is best girl, but could be romantic if you squint, post interrogation, so it kinda, works out in the end, you know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-07-10 15:36:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19908085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1960somethingBatman/pseuds/1960somethingBatman
Summary: “This about the interrogation.”He flinched, his hand freezing on his car door as he pushed down the bile rising up in the back of his throat. Miss Argent never missed anything, did she?“It is, isn’t it? Why won’t you talk to someone about this? ACME has many different divisions. I’m sure someone can find you a decent thera—”“I do not need help!” Devineaux yelled, slamming his fist on the roof of the car. Argent took a step back, looking a bit hurt. “I…” Devineaux faltered. Why did he always have to be such a jerk? “I am sorry. I… I should not have yelled.”





	Broken

**Author's Note:**

> Chase Devineaux is my child and he deserves all the love in the world, especially after episode 9 because, despite being a bit too spicy at times, he's trying, and that in and of itself is commendable. 
> 
> I personally hope the whole "This information extractor will make you go crazy if you wear it long enough" isn't an empty plot point because, for some sadistic reason, I love watching the characters I love go through absolute hell (also, it's a pet peeve of mine when they don't fire Chekhov's gun). That being said, it's no fun if they're suffering all the time, so here's a nice comfort piece for my scruffy baguette boi. What can I say? I love me some emotionally conflicted characters.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Devineaux said, slamming the door open as he stormed out of the building.

“Don’t want to talk about it?” Argent followed after him through the parking lot, “You just burst out singing the national anthem on the top of your lungs and _now_ you don’t want to talk about it? What happened back there? You were as white as a ghost. You still are.”

“I said I did not want to talk about it.”

“Agent Devineaux.”

“I’m fine, Miss Argent! Just leave it at that!”

“This about the interrogation.”

He flinched, his hand freezing on his car door as he pushed down the bile rising up in the back of his throat. Miss Argent never missed anything, did she?

“It is, isn’t it? Why won’t you talk to someone about this? ACME has many different divisions. I’m sure someone can find you a decent thera—”

“I do not need help!” Devineaux yelled, slamming his fist on the roof of the car. Argent took a step back, looking a bit hurt. “I…” Devineaux faltered. Why did he always have to be such a jerk? “I am sorry. I… I should not have yelled.”

“Chase.”

And there it was. That same gut-wrenching face worn by every single agent in ACME. That same nauseating look that twisted his stomach from every hallway to corridor to public bathroom in their base. Pity. God, even the Chief pitied him at that point. Poor Chase Devineaux. Captured by VILE due to his own incompetence and tortured until he broke. And now here he was, fractured and vulnerable. And everyone knew it. Constantly reminding him each and every day that he messed up. Shoving it down his throat with every false word of comfort and support. Asking him if he was alright, if he needed help, if he could handle the minuscule jobs Chief was giving him these days. It made him sick. All their condescension. All of them treating him like broken glass. He couldn’t take it anymore.

He sighed, a hint of frustration tinting his voice as he turned to face her, “What do you want Miss Argent?”

She took a step forward, looking up at his tired, gray eyes, “I want you to talk to me. We are still partners, are we not?”

Devineaux’s hand dropped to his side. “I am not so sure anymore.”

“Not so—? Agent Devineaux, that was a rhetorical question. Just because the Chief has been sending me on more solo missions does not mean we are any less of a team. She’s just waiting until—”

“Until what? Until I get better? Well, guess what. That is never going to happen. Do you know what the doctors told me when I first woke up? Do you?”

“I don’t—”

“That I got lucky. That if they had done whatever it was they did to me for just a little bit longer, I could have easily spent the rest of my life drooling in a mental facility. AMCE still isn’t sure what VILE did to me, but I get the feeling it’s not going away any time soon,” He fumbled with his keys, unlocking the door.

“So what? That’s it?” She asked, “You’re just giving up?”

“You say that as though there is an alternative,”

“Of course there is! ACME said they were going to fix this, so they will.”

“Yes, of course they will. At the same time they catch Miss SanDiego I suppose? And what do you expect me to do in the meantime? Sit down with some shrink? Tell her I keep my toothpaste in its own safe? That I can’t breathe when something touches my head? That I haven’t had a single good night’s rest since the incident? Or about how sometimes I can’t help but sing the national anthem when I get startled? Huh? How is that supposed to help? How on God’s Earth is that supposed to fix anything? They broke me, Argent. Is that what you want to hear? Then fine! They broke me! They fucking broke me!” He leaned against the car, a hand coming up to cover his eyes, “Now if you don’t mind, Miss Argent,” He said, his voice barely above a whisper now, “I’d like you to leave,”

Argent reached out a hand, but paused, unsure if the touch would be welcome.

“Pathetic,” Devineaux muttered. “Taking it all out on your partner. As if it’s somehow her fault you got yourself into this mess.” He sighed, running a hand down his face, before turning back to face her, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled. Again. I’ll—” 

She hugged him. He froze, unprepared and unsure what to do. Slowly, his hand found its way to her back, “It’s okay,” she said, “It’s okay, Chase. You will get through this,”

“You don’t know that.” He said, struggling to hold back the tears welling up in his eyes. “You can’t promise me that,”

“I know you. And, despite how unprepared you are or how incompetent you can seem, I know you never give up. I trust you, Devineaux. Why can’t you just trust yourself?”

“It is not that simple. I… I failed. They broke me. I told them… I told them everything. _Everything_ , Argent. And now I can’t even handle sudden noises without acting like a lunatic. I’m broken. Useless. I know. I don’t need you telling me because I already know! I can’t… I can’t get them out of my head. It’s as if no matter what I do, or where I go, they’re always there. They’re always watching me. Nowhere is safe anymore and I’m…” His voice broke as the tears finally started to fall, “I’m scared. I’m always… always scared.”

“You're not useless, Devineaux,” She said, holding him tighter as he buried his face in her shoulder, “It's okay to be scared. It’s okay to be broken. Just don’t… don’t try to shoulder this alone. We are partners. And whether you like it or not, partners stick together. So that’s what we’ll do. We’ll get through this. Together.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, thank's for sticking through to the end. I've mostly said what I wanted to say at the beginning but would like to drop a quick reminder that both compliments and criticism are equally welcomed in the comment section. So... yeah. That's it. Batman out.


End file.
